by Unknown
He felt her squeeze his shoulder again, and she began to grind against him. The features of her face had a wildly impatient look about them. It was odd: John figured maybe she wanted to take control. He released his grip on her and let her take over.
He thought he saw frustration spread across her face, but she it disappeared quickly and began to ride him. Her superheated wet flesh slid up and down his shaft in quick, hungry strokes. She began to pant, and small beads of sweat formed between her breasts and on her forehead. John breathed in the scent of her as it rose up between them. He was close to coming and fought the urge, until he felt her pussy tightening around his shaft and her pace quickening. He grasped her ass and began to help her to move her more body more violently up and down.
He felt her muscles hardening around him, squeezing him, and he was ready to let himself go at that moment as well. Unexpectedly, at that precise moment, she reached for his hand and tried to guide it somewhere – maybe to her neck, to her lips, to her shoulders – who knew? But they never found out because she upset their precarious balance on the stool and they started to fall off.
John felt the slap of nearly reaching orgasm but being cut off, and then the stunned, ringing sensation that followed. Adria stood up, and then she wasted no time. She pulled him down to the floor with her, her fingers digging into his flesh, and she spread her legs for him to enter her again.
They recovered from the interruption easily, and they were back close to the edge in almost no time at all.
Adria grabbed his ass, digging her fingers into his flesh. The same look of impatience or frustration took over her face again.
He thought, but could not be 100% sure, that he heard her say: “Fuck me harder,” just before he came. She closed her eyes as he pounded himself into her. At last, as he really dove into her with his cock, she seemed satisfied. With her eyes closed and her face in a distant expression, she finally shuddered to her own climax, her pussy bursting into hot liquid around his cock.
He collapsed on top of her for a moment, and they panted together on the floor. He rolled off and they lay there a moment on the tile.
John wasn't the kind of guy to have sex on the kitchen floor, and so he reflected on the fact that this might have been a first in their relationship. It was exciting, but it also nagged a little at his sense of order and propriety. He smiled, trying to have fun with the situation, which he knew he should just relax and enjoy – and indeed, he had – without letting his compulsive nature eat away at his pleasure.
He turned to Adria.
She was staring at the ceiling, with a faraway look in her eyes.
“That was...unexpected,” John said.
She smiled, but it seemed to him at the time, and even more so when he thought about it later, that it was the kind of smile you give to a child you aren't really listening to. A smile of appeasement, or complacency, but not a real smile. Something about his wife was not entirely in the room with him at that moment, of this he could be sure.
This lasted only a bit, and then she sat up. Her mood seemed abruptly changed, and she complained of being hot and needing a shower.
She cast another smile at him, and then she stood up. John had a nice view along her inner thighs and up to her twisted, soaked underwear, deep in the shadows of her skirt. She left, and the room, and his fingers, still smelled of her very wet, very sweet pussy.
John lay on the bed. He allowed himself to sink into his dark fantasy for only a few minutes: that was his rule for himself. It felt like floating slowly toward the bottom of a very deep lake, darker and colder with each passing second.
Fantasies. He wasn't even sure he could call them that. Was it a fantasy if you wanted to imagine that when your wife shuddered with an orgasm, it was because she was thinking of someone else? Was it a fantasy to think about another man defiling her, filling her up with his dirty seed, kneading her breasts and slapping her ass and making her scream? Was it a fantasy to think your own wife was unsatisfied with you?
His chest was tingling with the cold sensation that as an adolescent he would have called lovesickness. It twisted in his chest, and reached its hot-cold tentacles down to his crotch. The awful images of Adria, on her hands and knees and moaning in pleasure as another man hammered her with his gigantic cock, would not clear his head. They pressed down on him, pushing him deeper and deeper into his dark, cold lake of pain.
But the curious thing was this:
His cock was rock solid again.
He tore himself away from his thoughts, and marched down the hallway. He was unsure of his destination. The treadmill, to try and sweat his thoughts away. Or the study, where he could pour himself a Scotch and numb his mind.
5 VERY DISCREET
Lily Sanchez Gutt punched hard, repeatedly. Her toned arms moved with a fluid and vicious grace, directing her gloved hands into the soft red material of the punching bag in such rapid succession that a whole host of people had paused to watch her, whether they were walking by or practicing themselves.
Adria saw them, and it always gave her a kick that Lily gained such an audience, but Adria kept at her own workout. She had very little time in her week, and kickboxing with Lily on Wednesdays was very nearly the only indulgence in her life. She could see why people paused: Lily was a small and feisty half-Mexican girl with an extremely pretty face, and she was fucking this bag up.
Adria punched at her own bag with equal vehemence, but few people paid as much attention to her because, well, she was large. At five-eleven, and with the appearance of an Iowan farm girl completely bared by her workout clothes, no one seemed to think much of Adria punching the crap out of a bag.
Today she had a lot on her mind. The workout was helping her release some of it, but she was only halfway to the point she reached with intense exercise, of spacing out so much she didn't have to think about the things that were bothering her. Billy Stone; her husband; her conflicting feelings; her craving for rough sex: all wandered around in her mind. The thoughts bumped into each other, and just as they would be awkward if they met in real life as people, they were awkward when they collided as thoughts. Wanting to feel Billy Stone's big cock inside of her would bump into a sweet thought about her husband; the strange allure of anal sex (something she had never even considered before) would bump into the frustration she had felt welling up inside of her last night while having sex with John. All these thoughts were uncomfortable together. And yet there they all were in her mind.
She felt a tremendous sense of guilt for her thoughts about John. She supposed this was just sort of the way it went with marriage and long-term relationships, but she really didn't want to admit that it had happened to them. Last night she had wanted him to really fuck her, and the desire felt so alien to her that just feeling that way caused her consternation. But on top of that strangeness, she also felt bad because she had actually felt angry with John, annoyed with him, impatient and frustrated that he wasn't giving her what she wanted. She had dug her fingernails into his ass out of impatience, silently willing him to just...well...(and whenever she had this thought she felt a stab of guilt and shame and tried hard to submerge it as quickly as possible)...to fuck like a man.
A man-man. A man like Billy Stone.
Adria punched her bag as hard as she could at the thought of that smug fucker. She hated that someone like that was invading her thoughts. Invading her marriage, really, if she thought about it like that.
She felt like a bad person.
She began to really lay into her workout. If she worked hard enough, she would get some of these thoughts out of her head. She punched and kicked, taking no breather, failing to pace herself.
Sweat was pouring from her temples and running down her back and along the curves of her breasts in her sports bra when she finally had to pause to breathe. She could feel her chest heaving.
Only then did she notice that a lot of people were staring at her. Lily was holding her punching bag, and she looked at Adria with raise
d eyebrows.
But she was this kind of friend, which is probably why Adria loved her so much. She said nothing, just cocked her head in the direction of the locker room. You're out of control, her look said. So let's go talk.
They didn't talk until they had showered. Lily told her to meet her in the sauna, which was her way of saying she wanted to discuss something.
Lily threw her weight against the tile in the sauna and exhaled loudly. “So what is this shit with Mike?” she said, with her eyes closed. She pushed her wet hair out of her face and smiled. “I liked Mike.”
This wasn't the topic Lily really wanted to discuss, and Adria knew it. She appreciated that Lily had a diplomatic way of getting around to asking someone why they were furiously punching a bag in the gym until they looked like an unhinged banshee, as opposed to just asking that very question.
Adria raised her eyebrows. She knew it was a trick to get her relaxed and talking, but she didn't mind. It was a good tactic. She felt better the minute she started talking. “You didn't.” She closed her own eyes and let her mind picture the tall, ebony-skinned Mike. When Lily said she “liked” someone, it meant much more than that. “How do you even know Mike?”
Lily was married, and Adria had seen her husband in the flesh: a tall, sensual man of unidentified background. But he never seemed to be around, and Lily talked about him very little. One thing that Lily did (other than some kind of nondescript freelance work that made her disappear for weeks on end, or salsa dancing, which had the same vanishing effect), was flirt with a lot of men.
And, Adria suspected, with a slight twinge of equal parts admonishment and jealousy, Lily did quite a bit more than that.
Adria usually kept her questions to herself. She had been friends with Lily for years now, for obvious reasons: they were two of the ten girls in the College of Engineering back at school. They were a natural pair: two pretty, fun girls in a building full of dull, dorky men. But Lily had dropped out (out of extreme boredom, she claimed). Adria sometimes envied her deeply: she was carefree, she was unafraid to drop out of things in the name of fun, she was pretty and petite and did whatever she wanted with the men who suited her.
“You remember that party, the one you took me to for those fancy-pantsy clients, the ones with the...skyscraper thingy, the glass triangle-thing...” she lifted her hand and waved it limply in the air. Lily had a deep, grainy voice that ricocheted in her nasal cavity and exited as a sexy, breathy purr. The end of every sentence seemed to evaporate in a grated sigh. “He was there.”
Adria opened her eyes and looked at her friend. Then she thought about Mike. His dark, sensual allure. His muscled physique.
She had no idea why, but Adria suddenly felt quite bold. “Did you...?”
Lily's eyes snapped open, and a smile immediately took over her mouth. “Oh look at you! Finally curious, huh? You want to know if the legends are true?” She closed her eyes and moved her head as though she were settling into a pillow. She grinned. “They are true. The legends are completely true.”
“Lily!” Adria rasped. She closed her eyes, but she couldn't help smiling.
There was a pause for about thirty seconds, while Adria contemplated the exact dimensions of the truth Lily spoke about, all the while feeling a bit ashamed of herself and the detail in which she was imagining Mike's...package...when Lily's voice rattled pleasantly next to her. “You-want-to-gnow-how-true-they-ghar, don't you?” she sang, hamming up her accent. Lily had moved from Mexico when she was eighteen, but Spanish still rounded her vowels and drove her consonants deep into the back of her throat (something she used with predatory precision to attract men). Adria felt her fingers walking on her arm. She opened her eyes and saw Lily smiling and biting her lip.
“Oh,” Lily exclaimed. “You do.” She sat up and leaned forward on her knees.
Lily was genuinely excited about his. Adria watched her with what she would have loved to deem a morbid fascination. Adria liked to think of herself as above this kind of thing – after all, they were professional women. They were women. They weren't supposed to be obsessed with this sort of thing.
Lily had made a circle with her hands, touching her thumbs and pointer fingers to each other.
Adria laughed at her.
“I am serious. It was so big I could barely get it into my mouth,” she said. She smiled at Adria's reaction, which was to cover her mouth and blush. “I know. You're going to say, 'Lily don be so bulghar,' but you know you want to hear about it.” She was now holding her hands apart to indicate the length – the absurd length – of Mike's cock.
Adria snorted and closed her eyes again. “There's no way it was that big.”
“It was,” Lily said.
Adria shook her head.
“I am telling you the truth. And before you say anything, let me tell you, I have, you know, a lot of practice, right? So I can deal with this kind of things.”
Adria opened her eyes. Lily was smiling shamelessly. She seemed completely unconcerned that she was a married woman, talking about how she could barely fit a black man's cock into her mouth.
She continued: “But you know that little girlfriend he had, the sticky one...I mean the twiggy one? I don't know what that poor girl does. How she is doing it, you know?”
Adria was scandalized. But she was also a little bit...fascinated.
“You're small,” she said.
Lily's eyes flicked open. “I am. But I am Latina.” She closed her eyes as if there were nothing more to say about the subject.
Adria couldn't help herself, Her curiosity was getting the better of her.
“So, you just...I mean, you had an affair with him, right? And what about...you know...?”
Lily was still smiling. “First oball, this was not an affair. Just sex. And second, well, Esteven, he knows about it.”
“What?!”
Lily shrugged. “More or less.” She adjusted her hair and her towel slipped down and exposed her full breasts, and her rail-thin frame.
“How does that work?” Adria said, breathlessly.
Lily opened her eyes. Her dark brown eyes scanned Adria's, and a look of knowledge came over her face. “Ah,” she said.
Adria stared at her.
“Listen,” Lily said, leaning forward on her knees. “I have some things I want to do, you know? So I get them.” She said it like she was talking about a preference for fruit.
Adria's mouth was open, coming together to voice a protest.
But she changed direction suddenly. “Like what?”
“Like what, what?” Lily said. Then she nodded. “You know, I like a big cock.” She shrugged again. But her eyes were lit up with her own curiosity. “So what is it that you like, Adria?”
Adria shook her head.
Lily wrapped her hands around Adria's arm, pulling her close to her, a little bit like a small child. “Oh please, please, please tell me. You dirty whore. It must be something good.”
“Stop it,” Adria said, but in truth she really appreciated that Lily was going to make a big show of extracting this information from her. She realized that she really did want to talk to someone about it. She just didn't have any close enough friends who might be...well, as liberal-minded as Lily.
“Tell me,” Lily whined, purring into Adria's arm.
Adria closed her eyes and put her hand to her forehead. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
Lily released her, and sat at attention, having taken the hint that this was a serious confession.
“So I have this...I dunno. Recurring desire to have...a certain kind of sex...”
“Like rough sex,” Lily said, stating it flatly and not asking it as a question. She nodded.
Adria looked at her, slightly astonished. “Yeah, I mean, not like...super rough -”
Lily held up her hand. “It's okay. I got it. Everybody wants this sex. So now what, you can't get it from John?” (She pronounced it “Yone.”). Then she shook her head. “No,” she added solemnly, then
smiled. “No, Yone is not this kinds of guy.” She smiled and leaned back against the wall. She seemed unsurprised about Adria's confession. She had a smile on her lips.
“Well,” she said, after a long pause. “You are probably thinking about his all the time with all those hot obreros all around,” she shook her hand for emphasis. “Ay. You know, Mike is probably down for this kinds of thing.”
“Lily!” Adria said.
“What? Oh, I know, you can't break your marriage vows, but ghoney, you maybe should.” She smiled again. “I do it all the time and it's very good for my marriage.”
She chuckled.
Adria stared at her. On the one hand, she was impressed that a woman could be so open about her sexual needs and wants, and take things so casually, but on the other hand, she was horrified. Adria wouldn't have thought of actually going through with any of the things she was fantasizing about. She loved John. Their marriage was far more important to her than her sexual fantasies.
“Look,” Lily said, hitting her very lightly on the arm with the back of her hand. Lily shifted in her towel and more of her lithe figure seemed to pop out. “I know you have this thing, and you're thinking, oh, it's just something a think about. Whatever. But if you change your mind, I have this friend, okay? And she runs a...I'ma just goyn to call it 'business.' It started out for the single women, like professional women, they don' have time, they don' go to bars, they don' know how to dance the salsa, and they want something especific, you know? They're a little bit older, whatever. So then...my friend, she changes the business a little bit. Maybe some single women, maybe some married women...when they need something, they give her a call. It's all very discreet.”
Adria could think of nothing to say.
Lily smiled without opening her eyes. “And the men,” she murmured. Then she bit her lower lip and smiled wider. She sucked in her breath.
